Mud season. March 11, 2014

In Vermont, spring is known as “mud season,” when the snow finally gives way to deep, wet, slippery mud. But where our friend Ben and Silence Dogood live in scenic PA, mud season has just been a good reason not to visit Vermont until the mud has dried and the blackflies have subsided… until now.

Last fall, we planted 200 daffodils and tulips in great swaths in the front yard, taking advantage of generous gift certificates from OFB’s brother and his family. Because it was fall, this also left great swaths of exposed soil along each side of the sloping path we climb to reach our parking square and mailbox. We knew that grass would return with the spring, and with our recent mild winters, it never occurred to us that this could be a problem.

Unfortunately, this winter’s relentless snow and ice has been kinder to the bulbs—which appreciate the insulating blanket—than to us. Trying to climb an ice-slicked slope to reach your car or the mailbox is horrific enough. But now that a tiny bit of ground has emerged from the snow cover, it’s foot-deep mud of unspeakably slippery proportions. After Silence slid backwards down the muddy, snowy, icy slope while trying to get the mail, she proclaimed that unless I accompanied her, she wasn’t going to try the climb again until the ground was dry. Which, given our snow cover, may not be until May.